My mother is awesome. She is an amazing source of strength, love, support and all those things that moms are supposed to be. She IS Gidget – she is eternally happy, everyone in the entire world’s counselor, and has more wisdom in her pinkie than most people have in their whole bodies. And as I do almost every day, I called her and we discussed my last blog post. Which is when my blog post plan changed. So – thanks Mom.
I had to get all that really important stuff out the way because I’m going to spend the rest of this post telling you my favorite funny stories about her, which she may or may not interpret as me making fun of her.
My mom. Seriously. And we know when’s mad because she and Sally Field have the exact same angry face. We’re very creative in our family, so we call it her “Sally Field” face.
Blog Boo-Boo Number 2? Tomboy Princess: “Mom – what are you doing?” Me: “Replying to some comments on my blog.” TP: “Gidget has a comment.” M: “Really? I didn’t see it.” TP: “She said it. She didn’t write it” M: “Oh. What did she say?” TP: “That you use way too many pictures. So I hope you aren’t putting any pictures on there.” M: “…” TP: “You’re not, are you?” M: “No Tomboy Princess, I’m not posting any pictures right now.” TP: “Good. That will make Gidget happy.”
I emailed her this conversation and she said, “Wow – she’s got a really good memory. That’s exactly what I said.”
I just put this picture in here to irritate her and I think it’s funny.
And finally Boo-Boo Number One (1) – That I started this blog in the first place. “What are you doing?! You have to many things going on already!! When do you have time for this?!”
Oh wait - I forgot Boo-Boo Number 4. ”Everyone’s going to think you don’t do anything, that you just sit around on your computer and your husband does everything because you’re a brat.” “Nobody thinks that mom.” “Well, I just think that you should tell them that you help around the house too.” “Okay.” So consider yourself told. I help around the house too DESPITE the fact that I’m a brat.
Mom doesn’t drink alcohol. She says that everything tastes like beer, though she’s never had a beer. Even Mimosas. Not only do they taste like beer, they smell like beer. Around the time of my parents 40th anniversary, she decided she was going to try drinking. I have no idea why. My sister and I, plus spouses, took the parents to a fancy little restaurant/blues music place where Mom promptly ordered a Bloody Mary. Note that I said “a Bloody Mary”. Just one. Dinner’s over, we’re listening to the music and Mom leans over to me, “Feel my nose.” “What?” I reply. “Feel my nose. Just do it.” So I feel her nose. She says very matter-of-factly, “You can’t feel it can you? My nose, it’s numb.” My sister sideway glances at me trying not to laugh. I see the glance, return it, but laugh anyway,”Mom – I can feel your nose. You just can’t.” “Hmmm”, she says. See why she’s so awesome?
The drinking thing, as you can probably imagine, didn’t work out too well for her. She will still occasionally have a glass of a sweet wine or make herself a Bloody Mary on our family brunch Sundays at their house . They are made from mostly the mix with a pinch of vodka. Fast forward to a later date: I am talking to her on the phone about an episode of Myth Busters I watched where they proved that those who were allowed to cuss had a much higher pain tolerance than those who couldn’t. Her reply, “Yeah – that’s why I’ve decided to start cussing.” “Really, mom, you are just going to start using bad words.” “Yip!” she says. And then – “Oh my goodness – I hope I don’t curse in front of your children.” Yeah, um, Mom I’m not real worried about that.
Why? Well she doesn’t like the word butt, crap, and she hates, HATES the f-word. You know the one – FART.
Have you ever played Balderdash? It’s this game with words that most people don’t know and “IT” has the real definition and everyone else writes a definition for the word and then “IT” reads the definitions and you vote on which one you think is correct. Whoever votes for the right one gets points and if someone votes for yours you get points. Our family used to play the poor man version of that called “Find an Obscure Word in This Old Paperback Edition of the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.” That evening my mom chose the word parvenu, which by the way is “A person who has suddenly risen to a higher social and economic class and has not yet gained social acceptance by others in that class.” I don’t play to win, if you can’t tell already, my purpose in life is to make people laugh, so I always wrote silly things down. For this one? For this one, since it was Mom’s turn to read all the definitions after all, I wrote, “French for “Excuse me, I farted.” She read. She looked up. She glared around the room found my eyes and said “I can’t believe you just made me say THAT word,” as the rest of the family was rolling in the aisles laughing. That was 17 or 18 years ago and if we are all together and someone accidentally cuts a muffin, they say “Oh! Parvenu!”
“I am French! Why do think I have this outrageous accent?“
I have to stop writing now, because I’m tired and I have a gazillion and three funny Mom stories. And I have double that amount in sweet stories. I’ll try to keep it evenly balanced when I blog about her the next time.
And Dad – I know you don’t read this or “do” blogging, but fret not, your day is coming soon.